'Nine-Tenths' Excerpt – Part 2

Leonard Tramer’s time machine takes him nowhere near the past, but meddling with time destroys his future. When he steps out of the defective machine, he enters a totalitarian state which resembles East Germany more than the free world he left behind.

Alina put her arm out to prevent Leonard from stepping forward. “The kitchen light is on.” She grabbed an umbrella by the door and tiptoed slowly and purposefully toward the kitchen. She continued to hold one arm out to protect Leonard, which had the effect of making him feel emasculated. Irritated, he snatched the umbrella out of her hand just before they reached the kitchen.

“Garrett,” Alina cried, sounding both relieved and concerned.

The teenager stood over the sink, a muffin in one hand and a carton of milk in the other. He spoke without looking at them. “Kind of an odd time for a walk.”

“Where did you get that muffin?” Alina asked.

“None of your business.” He tossed back a swig of milk directly from the carton.

“Don’t talk to your mother like that.”

Garrett slammed the carton of milk on the counter. “Shut up, old man.”

Leonard rushed at the insolent teenager. Alina grabbed his arm, trying to hold him back to no avail. Inches from Garrett’s face Leonard snarled, “Show some respect, young man.”

Garrett shoved his father hard, causing him to stumble backward, knocking Alina on the floor. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

Leonard regained his balance and helped Alina to her feet. “I’m your father. I most certainly will tell you what to do as long as you live under my roof.”

“Well, thank God,” Garrett shouted, “because I won’t be living in this house for very much longer.”

“What are you talking about, Garrett?” Alina asked softly, in a tone that seemed to imply she already knew and was afraid to ask.

The teen responded by leaving the room, retrieving his backpack, and producing an envelope from the front zip pocket. He shoved the envelope in his mother’s face.

The healthy glow Alina had acquired in the crisp early September air drained swiftly, leaving the caramel-skinned woman looking almost ashen gray. She opened the envelope slowly and pulled out a wad of paperwork. Garrett leaned against the counter, a repugnant sneer pasted on his face. Alina smoothed out the papers on the counter. A moment later she gasped.

“A ward of the state?” she whispered in disbelief.

“I’m just waiting for a housing placement,” Garrett said, grinning in triumph.

Leonard grimaced and gazed at his son. “Who would want to become a ward of the state?”

“Oh, just about everyone these days, Father.” He said the word father as if it were something depraved. “I wish I had been born four years ago. Then I would’ve never had to even know you. The CAPERS kids are so lucky.”

Leonard glowered. “If you are ready to leave, then get out of our home.”

The teenager folded his arms. “No. I don’t have a housing assignment yet.”

“I don’t care,” Leonard shouted. “If you don’t want to be here, then leave.”

“No, Leonard, no,” Alina cried. “Maybe he’ll change his mind.”

“I’m not changing my mind, bitch.”

Leonard charged and punched Garrett on the jaw. The teen paused for a moment, an expression of total shock on his face. He felt his chin and looked at his hand. It was damp with blood. Then, with a growl of rage, he slammed the top of his head into Leonard’s chest. The Tramer males wrestled on the ground for nearly five minutes before Leonard got a good hold of his son and pinned him to the floor.

“Leave. Now.”

“My pleasure.”

Garrett grabbed his backpack, stuffed the government paperwork into the front pocket, and slung the pack over one shoulder, glaring as he stomped off. The slamming of the door echoed throughout the household.

Alina put her head in her hands and began to sob uncontrollably. “Why did you tell him to leave? We could have worked something out. Maybe he would have changed his mind.”

“He was being a jerk.”

“So? He’s my son.”

“But he–”

“Just because you don’t remember raising him, doesn’t mean he isn’t your son. That was easy for you, wasn’t it? It was like kicking an unwelcome stranger out of the house.”

“No, I–”

“Sure it was, because you don’t remember.”

He gazed at the floor. She was right. It had been easy. To him, Garrett was an impudent little brat who needed a kick in the ass. If Leonard could remember holding his son’s small body in his arms, taking him to the playground or teaching him to catch a ball, he might have responded differently. All he wanted was to be with Alina. And Natalia also seemed nice. Garrett was simply a nuisance, something to put out with the trash. What bothered Leonard most at that very moment was that, in spite of Alina’s obvious pain, all he really felt was good riddance.

You can purchase Meira Pentermann’s “Nine-Tenths” at Amazon.com